Fool's Errand
by trellyasigma
Summary: Everyone is telling Pippin that Merry is dead. He refuses to believe it. Slight AU. No warnings.


Pippin stared at the sea of bodies and gore, heart in his throat and his stomach churning. Physically, he was practically in perfect condition, save for a hungry stomach, tired muscles, and a few scratches. One in particular was over his eye, making his eyelid heavy and sticky with blood, but his injury was nothing compared to those of the dead and dying.

Gandalf smiled sadly at the look on his face. "Go. Find Merry. I am certain that he is alright."

Pippin swallowed thickly, tears prickling in his eyes, and he ran over to the group of Rohirrim searching the dead for the wounded or trapped. One of them, he noticed, was the late King Theoden's nephew Eomer. His sister Eowyn had been severely wounded in battle after killing the Witch King of Angmar. He had refused to leave her side for the first few hours after the end of the battle, and had only left after he had been convinced that Eowyn would make a full recovery.

Pippin thought of Merry, and how he could be just as wounded as Eowyn was, and it was all he could do to not collapse in despair. Merry was alive, he thought. He was going to be alright.

But as the sun began to set, Pippin began to doubt. He had been searching all day, and Merry was nowhere to be found. Had he been one of the men crushed beyond any recognition by the olipants? Had he been taken somewhere, somehow?

Pippin jumped as a heavy land laid itself on his slight shoulders. It was Eomer, his young face lined with the sight of far too much death, far too much suffering. "Halfling, you must come into the city with us. You have not eaten, nor have you drank. Your friend is likely dead. Would you like him to see you dead too?"

Eomer's words had a sort of sense to them, but Pippin could not simply abandon Merry. Even if he was dead, which he was sure he wasn't, Pippin wanted to— no, needed to find him and put him to rest. Merry had looked after him for years. He wanted to help him, even if it was in death.

"Thank you, Lord Eomer," he said softly, tears shining on his cheeks, "but I will not eat, nor drink, nor sleep until I have found him... Dead or alive."

Eomer watched him sadly, and Pippin could see the pity on his face. But, the young hobbit thought, he also understood. For such a young man, he had seen much of war, and many of his friends and family had been lost in it. It was because of this understanding that Eomer dropped his hand and walked back to his men, who were watching them expectantly.

"I shall stay with the halfling." The horse lord said seriously. "He will not rest until his friend is found, and I cannot deny him the help he needs." Eomer walked back over to the small hobbit, who was staring at his toes with a deep sadness that made the man's heart ache. "I will search with you, Master Peregrine. I admire your strength."

Together, man and hobbit searched the corpses and wounded for Merry. If the wounded was near death, they would stay until their passing. Most were already dead. But after several hours, there was still no sign of him.

"Pippin..." Eomer said, his voice just above a whisper. In the last few hours they had bonded, and he felt his new young friend's pain and fear for his friend even more than he had previously. "Pippin, if Merry was seriously injured, he's likely dead by now. Perhaps you could sleep for a while, regain your strength. Eat something."

Pippin shook his head. "I will not rest. Merry took care of me for years, I can't just abandon him now when he needs me." Deep down, Pippin was beginning to believe that perhaps Merry WAS dead, but that thought couldn't be allowed to take hold. He needed to believe that the older hobbit was alive, that he wasn't entirely alone in every way that mattered.

Suddenly, Pippin noticed a pair of hairy feet sticking out from underneath the heavy corpse of a large horse. The feet were twitching slightly.

With a gasp, he ran forward and pushed the horse off of Merry with a strength he did not know he had. "Merry!" He practically sobbed. "Oh, Merry, please wake up!"

The older hobbit had several scratches on his face, his ribs were likely cracked, and the source of his unconsciousness was likely coming from the strange blackness covering his hand. It was similar to what had been found on Eowyn's arm. The Black Breath.

Merry stirred and woke, his eyes blinking heavily. "Pip..." He muttered thickly.

"Merry." Pippin said, tears falling from his eyes.

Eomer smiled slightly at the tearful reunion. He was shocked that the little hobbit had survived so long, especially since he appeared to be struck with a similar problem as his beloved sister. Of course, it was only a small thing compared to Eowyn, who had successfully killed the Witch King simply because she was a woman. Eomer, while surprised, was proud of his sister none the less.

Pippin had begun to care for Merry taking off his cloak to keep him warm and wipe the blood from his face. Eomer came over, bandages in hand, preparing to help the hobbit enough to be taken back to Minas Tirith and its Houses of Healing.

After a good half an hour, Merry and Pippin were on their way to the great tiered city in the distance, the elder of the two hobbits leaning heavily on the younger, his every step causing him pain. Eomer lingered behind.

As it became obvious to Eomer that Merry was in agony from his crushed ribs thanks to his time beneath the horse, he put his hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "You are in pain, young hobbit. Allow me to carry you the rest of the way."

Merry hesitated, an expression between guilt and stubbornness lingering on his face. Eomer sighed, and after an approving nod from Pippin, scooped the injured hobbit into his arms.

The rest of the way to the city was uneventful. The guards blinked in surprise when the noticed the great Rohirrim rider and the two small hobbits, one wearing the clothes of Gondor, the other the garb of Rohan. "You found him, then?" Said one of them gruffly to Pippin. He seemed surprised, and very pleased that the young halfling had found his friend."Most of us were convinced it was a fool's errand."

"Yes." Said Pippin quietly, a small grin stretching across his face as he glanced at Merry, who was injured but ALIVE, and would stay that way hopefully for many years more. "I found him."

The End

 **Hey, guys, Author here! Hope you liked this little LOTR oneshot.**

 **I had a Middle Earth marathon recently and I couldn't get this out of my head, so here we go.**

 **I do not own it. Yes, slightly AU, but I don't care.**

 **Thanks,**

 **Trellya.**


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